


Soul, I hear you calling

by Mis_Shapes



Series: Writer's Picks [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 80s, 80s Music and Fashion References, Age Difference, Background Relationships, Break Up, Fluff, Happy Ending, Homophobic Language, I'm not going to tag other characters, Internalized Homophobia, LGBTQ Themes, Let's Play, Light Angst, M/M, Make Up, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pride, Smooching, Spot that LGBTQIA ASoIaF character's cameo, Strawberry Laces, what else can I add here to make up for all the dire tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:28:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24595288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mis_Shapes/pseuds/Mis_Shapes
Summary: Theon know's he loves Robb, but he also knows that he can't live in the rural backwaters of 80s Britain hoping with all his might for Robb to get to the same page whilst knowing it might never happen.
Relationships: Theon Greyjoy/Robb Stark
Series: Writer's Picks [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1780456
Comments: 14
Kudos: 43





	Soul, I hear you calling

**Author's Note:**

  * For [northernfieldsforever](https://archiveofourown.org/users/northernfieldsforever/gifts).



> A LONG time ago (sorry), northernfieldsforever, mentioned break up and get back together fics on tumblr in response to prompt requests... angst and fluff may also have been mentioned, along with a little silliness. So, here's a thank you for all your support and comments, and a celebration for the month of June 💖
> 
> Setting of second half is implied to be Manchester, the first I had Cumbria in my head (mostly due to the bus shelter), but its unimportant.

He can hear them as soon as he nears the street corner. Robb’s laughter rings out amongst the others, but of course it does, it's always called out to him like a siren. Robb is the first thing he sees when he turns it, lit only by the sinking sun and another boy's arm thrown round his shoulder. Theon smiles, watching them muck around as they leave the pitch behind them, bickering a little amongst themselves over whose turn it is to take the filthy ball away just to resort to booting it at each other across the empty street. 

Lighting a smoke, he leans against a dry stone wall on the opposite side of the road; nearby, but out of the way they pass, waiting for Robb to make his excuses. There’s always some water bottle or a jacket, anything, that was conveniently left behind he has to go back for. The smoke billows out before him, glowing orange when the streetlamp finally flickers on. They always finish just on time to leave before it turns too dark to see the ball any longer.

One or two of the group glance over to him, there's a little muttering, but none of them raise their voices to him or really try their hand at any kind of antagonism. They’re all still too young, really, to start it with someone a bit older than them. Even before anything between them could’ve been considered at all ‘sordid’, Robb had been mindful of keeping their friendship private. He is more so these days.

Robb jogs across the road after retrieving the item, a bag this time, a grin already plastered across his freckled face. Theon wishes more than anything that he could greet him with a kiss, but instead he smiles and offers out the cigarette. Some have said that sharing something around which you place your lips is akin to kissing. Would that it were.

“Good game?” he asks. Not that he cares beyond getting a sense of Robb’s mood.

Robb takes a drag, hollowing out his cheeks, and holding the smoke before he exhales in a steady stream, nodding. “Yeah,” he says, handing back the fag. He still moves in that funny little way he does when he’s running on lingering adrenaline. “Scored in the last minute.”

“Well done,” he says without thinking. Theon doesn’t need to ask who scored, Robb would have added a name or a ‘we’ if it weren’t him, and it was telling how he was surrounded when they left. _Celebrating rather than commiserating then_ , he thinks as they reach the rock built bus shelter. No buses come this far out at this time of night.

“Thanks,” Robb smiles brightly in a way that has a tendency to make his stomach flip. His red hair stands out still when they step into the darkness.

The cigarette is quickly discarded, with a throw onto the floor and a hasty stub out with the heel of his boot. Robb’s lips are on him in an instant and his mouth is fast to accommodate him, opening at the swipe of his tongue. He tastes of the smoke and just enough of the strawberry laces he’s so fond of to remind Theon that though he is 18 now, he’s still too young for this to be sensible. Just enough for him to know that if this goes the way he expects, he is still right to do it.

Half an hour later, Robb sits next to him on the wooden bench, nestled into the corner as much as possible, with one leg thrown over Theon’s lap. His already tiny white shorts ride up, leaving a good deal of exposed thigh between their hem and the top of his knee-high socks. There’s some irony in thinking about how homoerotic these sports become. Theon can’t help but give in to the temptation of resting his hand against the warm skin. This conversation is going to be all the more difficult for it.

He clears his throat, hating himself already for doing this. “Robb…”

“Yeah?” Robb murmurs, still relaxed. His finger moves lazily across his lip.

“I need to leave.”

“Alright, just give me a min,” he smiles dreamily, “you can’t expect me not to need a moment.”

Theon sighs despite how endearing this look is on Robb, working up his courage again. His heart pounds in his chest. “No, Robb, I need to leave leave.”

That has him sitting straight. The leg is immediately retracted. It’s a little surprising that he doesn’t topple from his perch.

“You know I do,” Theon follows up before Robb even comments.

Robb's jaw drops and he shakes his head stubbornly, curls bouncing with it. “No.”

“This can’t come as a surprise. I can’t do _this_ anymore, Robb.” Theon reaches for his hand, and he thinks for a moment that Robb might let him take it, but it's pulled sharply from his grasp as though burnt. “Come with me,” he begs in vain, with no hope left in him. 

“I can’t! You know I can’t.” Robb will always be more inclined to succumb to the expectations of others. To shy away from what he wants to please them.

“No, you just _won’t_.”

“Then it’s just that you won’t do this anymore,” Robb hisses, heat building in his cheeks. “What’s wrong with this anyway?”

“What are we supposed to do? Skulk around for the rest of our lives? Even if I were able to… able to stop being ‘me’, what’s your plan? To marry some poor girl to make everyone but the three of us happy, and have me on the side?”

“I -” Robb begins, then sharply stops, his mouth closing tight. Theon can sense the tremble despite being at a distance. His eyes begin to water and he leaps up off the bench.

“Robb,” he tries, he means to convey some empathy, an apology even, but it comes out tired and exasperated. Robb is already out onto the pavement outside before he finishes the word.

“Fuck off,” says Robb, pulling away from his reaching hand. “I’m not like you. I’m not a faggot.”

Theon chases him from the shelter but stops himself from following after him. “Robb!”

“Fuck you!” Robb yells, sticking up his middle finger behind him, eyes resolutely sticking to the route back to his house.

* * *

He can hear his pulse racing, the thrum in his ears. It’s tempting to run away there and then. 

A woman beside him tsks and begins to usher away the small girl stood watching the crowd in awe and waving hesitantly back at a man holding one pole of a banner. He has blue hair, the roots of which are as red as Robb’s own. As she is pulled away back across the canal bridge, she is thrown a badge by a woman in the mix. She catches and clenches her hand around it as tightly as the fist depicted, hiding it from view of her guardian.

This new woman then looks to Robb and smiles. She nudges the similarly dark haired companion who has his arm around her shoulders and inclines her head for him to join them. Robb feels the heat in his cheeks and the urge to leave, but his feet refuse to budge. 

A voice cries out “Robb!” and he feels his face drain. Perhaps it had been obvious at some point someone might recognise him, but it's significantly quicker than he'd imagined and this person knows him by name. “Robb,” it calls again, and suddenly a familiar short haired woman in a leather jacket appears from the mass, looking as shocked as he feels about being here. Following close behind her is another one with a friendly grin to offer.

“Hi,” he says meekly, knowing his cheeks are now flooding to match the colour of his hair.

“Well I never,” Asha laughs heartily. “Boy, are you going to give him a shock or what?”

Robb’s heart stops.

He knew this was a possibility. Of course, he did, he’s not an idiot. He’s at the biggest pride event in the North of England. But he’d never dared dream.

“Aly, this is Theon’s little friend from home, Robb,” she tells the woman who takes her hand.

“Where has he been hiding you?” asks the dark haired man with a smirk.

His companion chuckles. The shoulder pads in her leopard print dress are some of the most daring he’s seen. “He doesn’t seem so little to me.”

“Ay,” a smoky voice calls to them from the other end of the banner, causing them all to look over, “leave the boy alone.” Robb’s stomach sinks at the sight of his uncle. It must show because it draws a gruff laugh. “Don’t worry, lad; evidently, I am able to keep a secret.”

“Come on,” Asha beckons him away from them. Having always found Theon’s sister somewhat intimidating, and now being nervous about a reunion, he is hesitant, but hope pushes him forwards.

“Asha! Make sure those girls are being sensible!” the man shouts after them.

Asha only snorts in a way that tells him that whoever these girls are there's little hope of that happening, whether it be her doing this job, them ever being sensible, or both. Having once known Asha, he suspects both.

They push through the throng of people. Noise blares in his ears from all around. There’s no going back now and little space for him to wonder how on earth he’s come to this. He hadn’t envisioned seeing Theon for the first time in three years surrounded by others. As they reach the front he spots who he knows is Theon, just from the way he moves, even from his back and being jostled by the friends around him. 

“Theon!” Asha cries out to him, nudging Robb forwards. “Theon!”

Theon turns back mid laugh and he’s just as beautiful as he remembers. More so even. Robb has never seen him look so free and in his element. It takes him what feels like an era to stop laughing enough to focus on what is in front of him. When he does, he looks between Asha and Robb. Robb expects the smile to drop, but it doesn’t, if anything it grows. That dimple he loves so much forms as his grin becomes lopsided.

“I brought you a present,” Asha declares.

“And what a fine present it is,” Theon says as he unabashedly looks him up and down in a way that makes him feel weak at the knees. His brightly coloured shirt is tucked into his jeans and it’s short sleeves are rolled up high on his arms to emphasise his biceps.

“I - ” Robb starts, and looks back to Asha, but she only winks, claps him firmly on the shoulder, and turns back to find her own group.

“You?” asks Theon, cocking his head to one side. When he receives no answer he turns to start walking and motions for Robb to follow him. Theon’s friends, including two girls with similarities to the man he’d previously met, and a golden haired man in a shirt covered in roses that is a little too close to him for Robb’s liking, all eye him curiously. 

Robb has to raise his voice as they pass a bar blaring out I’m Coming Out, “I’m sorry.”

Theon waves his hand dismissively. “Don’t be,” he says and smiles at something that is whispered into his ear by who Robb recognises as Renly Baratheon, a family friend, when he looks over.

“Robb!” Renly exclaims. “Was not expecting to see you here.”

Robb only shrugs in response, and pushes his hands into his pockets.

“Oh! Are you a virgin?” asks one of the girls merrily, the shorter of the two with dark curls that reach her waist. She falls into step with him, linking their arms, still dancing in time to the music and encouraging him with the rock of her hips.

Theon glances over and laughs at them both and what Robb can only assume are his bright red cheeks. “Ari, please go easy on him. Robb, what she means to ask is whether it’s your first time _here_.”

“Um, yeah,” Robb answers, eyes drifting over the rainbow sequins covering her.

“Don’t worry, we’ll look after you, baby gay. Are you coming round after?”

Robb looks back to Theon for another translation.

“We’re having a party, you’d be very welcome,” Theon says with a wink. “Unless you have somewhere else to be? Are Ned and Cat letting you stay out late yet?”

* * *

Later that day, Theon pulls Robb aside into the kitchen of the house he shares with some friends. Everywhere is covered with queer memorabilia and literature, from posters on the walls down to magnets on the fridge. If Robb wasn’t so enamoured, he might have been interested in some of it. Instead, he focuses on watching Theon as he does some hosting tasks, emptying out packets of crisps and pulling out drinks from the fridge and freezer to be taken into the living room. 

“Sorry,” Theon smiles once his purple haired housemate has left them alone to deliver the goods, and Robb has to wonder how on earth he is the one saying this. Suddenly Theon’s arms are around him, holding him in a tight hug. The feeling of being held close by Theon is enough to make him cry. “I didn’t want to do this in front of literally everyone.”

Robb does cry, letting out a pent up sob that has been years in the making.

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just wanted it to be us.” Theon’s gentle thumbs wipe away the tears that have made it to his cheeks.

“I’m the one that should be sorry.”

“No.” Theon kisses tenderly at the salty tracks by his eyes.

“Yes, I shouldn’t have said -” his chest judders, “I shouldn’t have said _that_.”

“Robb… I left you, I would’ve been angry. I’m sorry. Sorry that you were left alone. Sorry that you’ve been holding on to this. I’m not sorry I left, but I’m sorry about how it happened. I should’ve written to you or - “

“I know you needed to leave, to come here,” Robb glances around at Theon’s life, “I’m sorry I made you feel - “

“No,” Theon shakes his head, some of his dark hair falls into his face, “it’s the circumstances that put us in that position that I resent.”

Robb’s gaze flits between his eyes and ruby lips. He knows it's been years. That Theon could have moved on or that he could even have a partner. But he needs to chance it. To try, in any way at all, to make up for lost time. Immediately.

His hands move from where they rest, in the hug, on the back of Theon’s waist, and he pulls away to give some space between them, looking up. It gives Theon the opportunity to shut it down before Robb reaches to take his face into both hands and pull him into a kiss. It’s sweet and exploratory like their very first, but it ends abruptly when the kitchen door flies open and in tumbles chaos, and the sounds of people attempting, and failing, to hold the notes as they sing along to A Little Respect.

“Shit, sorry,” Arianne laughs, with a sandy haired guy’s mouth on her neck. “We’ll - Daemon stop! - We’ll go - “ They topple back out in much the same manner, with Arianne chuckling and reaching round her partner in crime to close the door behind them.

Robb is frozen still. It's a small triumph that he didn’t step away in the panic.

Theon watches them go with a grin and shake of his head, then turns back and speaks against Robb’s lips, “where were we?” His hands slip down into Robb’s back pockets, and Robb knows that Theon was right to take life into his own hands, and he was right to follow him. He’d have taken as much as he could get of Theon in that dank bus shelter, but it’s got nothing on kisses under the bright lights of this kitchen. 

Theon tugs his lip gently between his teeth and looks down at him, mischief in his sea green eyes, waiting for Robb to take up the invitation. 

His fingers card through Theon’s hair at the nape of his neck, and he takes him into a kiss he’s been waiting years for. He groans with Theon’s soft tongue against his own and backs him up against the kitchen cupboard. A couple of bottles on the counter fall over, and Theon’s hand flies out to stop them from rolling off and onto the floor, but he melts into the pressure of Robb’s body against his.

“Robb, kisses are one thing, but if you’re going to fuck me I’d recommend we take this elsewhere.”

Robb laughs, embarrassed at having gotten a little carried away. 

Theon smiles with a strange look on his face. “You taste like strawberry laces,” he tells him. It sounds a bit like an accusation to Robb’s ears.

“They had some on the trolley on the train,” Robb tells him, a little confused. “What? Why are you laughing?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> To my utter **_joy_** , [Evax3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evax3/pseuds/Evax3) has created some artwork of the kitchen scene I am am absolutely in love with. Please take a look [here](https://evax3.tumblr.com/post/620377251353083904/soul-i-hear-you-calling-i-read-salty-wench-s) 🌈
> 
> So, for any of you interested, timeline wise, Manchester's council took steps towards being friendly towards the LGBT+ community in the mid 80s, it's Pride was born in 1985. With the protests against Thatcher's Clause 28 in '88 and the Love Rights celebration of '89 the community grew. I didn't write with exact dates in mind, but it's fair to assume Theon moves around '86 with the reunion in '89 (A Little Respect was released September '88. I'm not overt about it either but there's a little hangup in the start over Robb being technically underage, so in '89 he would've reached the UK's contemporary age of consent for gay men - it didn't join the standard age of consent until 2000). I will stop here with my little essay.
> 
> Canonical and debatable (maybe) lgbtqia asoiaf characters in order of appearance
> 
> Jon Connington  
> Ellaria Sand  
> Oberyn Martell  
>  ~~Asha Greyjoy~~ (*shakes fist*)  
> Brynden Tully  
> Arianne Martell  
> Nymeria Sand  
> Loras Tyrell  
> Renly Baratheon  
> Sweets  
> Daemon Sand
> 
> Comments much appreciated. Also, feel very welcome to say hi on [my new writing/asoiaf tumblr!](https://salty-wench.tumblr.com)


End file.
